La moza de cántaro | Page 8

of his genius. Hartzenbusch is
authority for the statement that it was written towards the close of the
year 1625 and revised in 1632.[5] It is evident that the closing lines of
it were written in 1632, for the author says in the Égloga á Claudio that
he had completed that year fifteen hundred comedias. As evidence of
its popularity, we have the following resumé and appreciation from the
same critic in the prólogo of his edition of Comedias Escogidas de
Lope de Vega: «Iba cayendo el sol, y acercábase á la peripecia última,
precursora del desenlace, una comedia que en un teatro de Madrid (ó
corral, como solía entonces decirse) representaban cuatro galanes, dos
damas, un barba, dos graciosos, dos graciosas y otros actores de clase
inferior, ante una porción de espectadores, con sombrero calado, como
quienes encima de sí no tenían otra techumbre que la del cielo. Ya la
primera dama había hecho su postrera salida con el más rico traje de su
vestuario: absorto su amante del señoril porte de aquella mujer, que,
siendo una humilde criada, sabía, sin embargo, el pomposo
guardainfante, como si en toda su vida no hubiese arrastrado otras
faldas; ciego de pasión y atropellando los respetos debidos á su linaje,
se había llegado á ella, y asiéndole fuera de sí la mano, le había
ofrecido la suya. El galán segundo se había opuesto resueltamente á la
irregular y precipitada boda; pero al oir que la supuesta Isabel tenía por
verdadero nombre el ilustre de doña María Guzmán y Portocarrero, y
era, aunque moza de cántaro parienta del duque de Medina, su
resistencia había desaparecido. Hecha pues una gran reverencia muda á
la novia, se adelantó el actor á la orilla del tablado para dirigir esta
breve alocución al público:
Aquí Puso fin á esta comedia Quien, si perdiere este pleito, Apela á Mil
y Quinientas. MIL Y QUINIENTAS ha escrito: Bien es que perdón

merezca.
[Note 5: I have not been able to verify on what foundation
Hartzenbusch bases the statement that the play was written first in 1625.
It is true that several historical events which took place about that year
are alluded to in the work in a way to indicate that they were fresh in
the mind of the author, but they do not offer conclusive proof. It does
not appear in the twenty-five Partes or collections of Lope's dramas,
and it is doubtful if it was published in any regular edition during the
poet's life. In a note, Act II, Scene III, Hartzenbusch mentions "la
edición antigua de la comedia," but does not specify to what edition he
refers. The play appears in Comedias de Diferentes Autores, Vol.
XXXVII, Valencia, 1646, but it is not certain or even probable that this
is the first time it was published.]
De las gradas y barandillas, de las ventanas y desvanes, de todos los
asientos, pero principalmente de los que llenaban el patio, hubo de salir
entonces, entre ruidosas palmadas, un grito unánime de admiración, de
entusiasmo y orgullo nacional justísimo. «¡Vítor, Lope!» clamaba
aquella alborazada multitud una vez y otra; «¡Viva el Fénix de los
ingenios! ¡Viva Lope de Vega!»[6] And in no less laudatory terms,
Elías Zerolo says: "En ella,... agotó Lope todos los sentimientos
resortes propios de su teatro... Esta comedia es una de las más perfectas
de Lope, por lo que alcanzó en su tiempo un éxito ruidoso." In
enumerating the plays of Lope which were still well known and
represented in Spain in the nineteenth century, Gil de Zárate names La
Moza de Cántaro among the first,[7] and doubtless on this authority
Ticknor speaks of it as one of the plays of Lope which "have continued
to be favorites down to our own times."[8]
[Note 6: The sun was setting and a comedia was approaching its last
phase, precursor of the denouement. It was presented in a theater of
Madrid (or corral as it was then called) by four gallants, two ladies, an
old man, two graciosos, two graciosas, and other minor characters,
before an audience with hats pulled down as those who had no other
roof above them than that of heaven. Already the leading lady had
made her last entry, decked in the richest costume of her wardrobe; her

lover, absorbed by the noble bearing of that woman who, although a
humble servant, knew, nevertheless, the pompous farthingale as if in all
her life she had not worn any other style of skirt; blind with passion and
trampling on the respect due his lineage, had approached her and,
beside himself, seizing her hand, had offered her his. The second
gallant had resolutely opposed the irregular and hasty match, but on
hearing that the supposed Isabel bore as true name the illustrious one of
Doña María Guzmán